Falcone, Flakk, GAMAN - Поэма - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Smoking will save you from stress,

Depressive man

Invisible style movements

But at night it's a booth

Duriman, and the boy grew up to be a hooligan

But fuck us, we wander around the courtyards in life

The glass is shattered, but I would like white birch trees

Or petals, yes under the steering wheel, and transportation

Arrange later, luggage boarded up

and the gloomy uncle showed his sketches

My hair stands on end like a cold block,

It doesn't need oxygen to swim like fish

someone is drawn to the ground from a hungry trip,

And he still drags two bodies, which he could easily do with three.

The conversation is lively, but secretly shining,

And he’s still sleeping drunk in the bathroom, splashing around in the foam.

But the outfit that arrived did not forget his stupidity,

he scratches his cottony roots with a comb, believing in miracles.

And the bridle dissolved like cane sugar

After all, for happiness you need as little as you need for fear.

The obituary showed everyone how much the oligarch owes

There’s definitely no hiding anymore, it’s time to take off your shirt.

But the door is as strong as an elephant's tortoise

A flood of emotions and the chopping block has already been rubbed

The whole guarantee of health, the young man understood how to do it,

But he’s late, prepare a place for his ashes.

Who told me that I would not rise from scratch,

Who told me that this is all bullshit?

Now they write to me on VKontakte, they liked the bullshit,

And I know they all whine.

Beat the beat, yes, beat it tick tock

Hey, kid, how about you come over to us?

Click, click, click, is that a machine gun?

Transportation of goods for spraying,

But I only did automation,

Express your position, write a petition,

To fly like a free bird.

Nobody knows what I've been through -

Not soft silk, after a while I found myself,

Salaam alaikum to our fellow countrymen from the floor to the throne,

I'm touched by the music, stuck in the swamp, the lotus and the hammer from Thor, the engine of cinema, blood and sweat, my Gotham, who is there, what is there, sold, wrapped, bro.Recruited places, I say on the beats,

Yes, I'm a psychopath, don't trust the machine gun.

The glare in the dark flickers very brightly

Perhaps opportunities are right around the corner,

But I set a goal and run towards it,

The poison eats the flesh inside me

Street 4 00 has always taught me this way,

I was hanging out, carousing, wandering - it's true.

Bare feet explored the sidewalks,

And we wrote our memoirs.

Lost sleep, third day,

Non-stop.

We are moving in this minibus,

Drunken everyday life.

No glare of light is visible behind the tinting,

Alas, the poem is over,

Like rolling papers.